The Secret Records of Miss Carla McCorkle
by clicheusername1234
Summary: A whole new perspective explained by a familiar character. Takes place primarily during Stan's young adulthood. More on the way soon!
1. Teaser

I am, and have always been, a huge fan of innovation. Of pushing forward, of creating new technologies and means of progression… but I fear I may have gone too far.

My name is Carla McCorkle. Or, it was. I'm not quite sure who I am now. Just a memory, stuck in the dreamscape, I suppose. It's better this way. The world is safe… _he_ is safe.

I've had some history, I'll give you that. If you listen hard enough, if you tune out the bustle of Gravity Falls, Oregon, you'll hear my name. Whispers, backhanded mentions, codes, all leading back to me.

And now you, reader, have found my records. You have the secrets of a town in your hands, but with secrets come responsibility. _I_ learned that the hard way.

I have been many things during my existence: a foolish teenager, a powerful villainess, a reserved housewife… but now it is my time to take an all- new form.

A narrator.

_Yeah, yeah. I know. You can be angry. But I couldn't resist the temptation. I miss you guys! And with my one- year- anniversary coming up in June… well, I can't leave y'all empty- handed. My updates are going to be inconsistent and spontaneous, be ready for that. As usual, expect emotional author's notes. It's just the cliché way, huh? _

_All right, I'm good. New Gettysburg Island soon, I think. Thanks!_


	2. Yellow Flowers

_A LONG TIME AGO_

"Mommy, I like flowers." said the little girl with pink freckles and brown pigtails. Giggling, she ran down the concrete sidewalk surrounded on both sides by massive fields. The sky above her was blue and clear, and the sun shone pleasantly on the lazy late June day. Her mother, smiling, picked her up and looked towards the field.

"Which ones?"

"All of them… but the yellow ones the most." said the girl, pointing at a particular patch.

"I see. I like the pink ones."

"Can I pick some?" asked the girl, squirming out of her mother's arms.

"No, sweetheart. They belong to nature. How would you like it if someone plucked _you _out of my arms?"

"It depends, would _they_ give me flowers?"

The mother sighed. Sometimes parenting was such a battle… especially doing it alone.

"I can take you to the flower shop near Greasy's, Carla. You can buy yellow flowers there."

"How is that different from picking them here?"

"It just… is. Okay?" said the mother, frowning.

"Okay, mommy."

Carla's mother smiled and held her hand. At the time, all was well.

_LESS THAN A LONG TIME AGO_

"Carla, where are you going?" asked Lilah McCorkle, cynically lowering her newspaper. Carla, sixteen years old, rolled her eyes while putting on a green raincoat.

"Out."

"Care to specify _where_?"

"Not really."

"Then you're not going. It's ten PM, why are you even-"

"Mom, I'm going to the park with Jane and Al. No pot, no smoking, no sex… just a picnic." said Carla.

"A picnic? Really?"

"You asked."

"Why are you bringing that book?" asked Lilah, looking at the large brown volume shabbily hidden behind Carla's back.

"It's, uhm, homework."

"Homework at a picnic? _At night_?"

"Jane's bringing booklights."

"I suppose that sounds fine," said Lilah, frowning. "I just worry about you. I don't want you to get hurt."

"I'm gonna get hurt sometime, Mom. Why are you always on me about this?"

"I just… care about you. It's just what it is. Okay?"

Carla smiled sweetly. Her fingers slowly crossed behind her back.

"Okay."

"Goodnight." said Lilah, resuming her reading. Carla slipped through the front door, and instantly heaved a sigh of relief.

"You can come out now, Jane."

"Finally, I thought I'd be woodpecker'd to death or something. What is your mom's deal?" said another teenage girl, gracefully jumping out of a pine tree. Her dark skin and frizzy hair were illuminated by the silver moonlight.

"She still thinks I'm a kid. Simple as that." said Carla, walking briskly beside her best friend.

"So what's the plan for tonight? We meet Al at the park and…?"

"Do something _dangerous_."

"Like what? Set the statue of Nathaniel Northwest on fire?"

"I was thinking of something more… poetic."

"Write obscure anti- governmental graffiti on the statue of Nathaniel Northwest?"

"No, no."

"Well, what then?"

Carla smiled, rubbing her hand over the triangular engraving on her book's cover. Tonight was the summoning; she could feel it the second she woke up.

"Jane, we're going to pick the yellow flowers."

_A/N: Obligatory sorry, sorry, sorry for not updating, I miss it, I'm busy with homework, etc…. _

_Okay, now that that's over with, I've got something to say/ write. Wednesday was actually my one- year fanfiction anniversary (Falling into Gravity Falls) and I just want to thank you guys for being the awesome readers that you are. Without you, I shudder to think of the person I would be today. I have learned so much about writing, working with others, and cartooning from being part of this community, and I am just so grateful. _


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